


i have faith in my fellow man (and i only hope that he has faith in me)

by toujoursEspoir



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Character Study, Drabble, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:37:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toujoursEspoir/pseuds/toujoursEspoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which I explore the dynamic of Feuilly and Bahorel's relationship, with reference to their friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i have faith in my fellow man (and i only hope that he has faith in me)

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't the first fic I've written, but it is the first I've published. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. Title comes from Andrew Jackson Jihad's song People.

Bahorel is huge. He’s almost impossibly tall, broad-shouldered, and well-muscled from years of boxing. His hands are big enough for an adult male’s throat to fit comfortably in one. He can win in a fight without strategising, because he can take whatever the other guy throws at him. He’s built like a professional gladiator, and he knows it. In other words, he’s a fucking giant.

Feuilly isn’t short, but he’s nowhere near as tall as Bahorel, and skinny as a whip. His muscles aren’t obvious, but he’s sinewy, and can more than hold his own in a fight. He’s strong, but not full of the brutal force of Bahorel. He’s slippery as a snake, darting around and tiring his opponents out before striking a single, well-timed blow. His fingers are long and thin, perfect for craftsmanship and lockpicking alike.

Some of their friends - L’Aigle, Grantaire, Courfeyrac - might laugh if they knew. _What an interesting symmetry,_ they might quip. On a less eloquent day, they might point out the visual incongruities between the two. _How does that work? Bahorel’s hands are the size of Feuilly’s face_. Other friends - Jehan, Marius - would say something about how romantic it all is, calling Feuilly the rogue to Bahorel’s warrior. 

Neither Feuilly nor Bahorel think of it as particularly striking either way. Each just takes comfort in knowing that someone has his back in a fight, will share drinks with him at the Corinthe, will duck out of meetings early for stolen kisses and sometimes more against the back wall of the Musain, will laugh and not be mad or hurt when they come to blows on those stressful evenings.

Bahorel and Feuilly do not see themselves as particularly romantic. But that’s not what they’re looking for.


End file.
